Page 114 of Whispers of You
I pulled my sat phone from my pocket and hit Lawson’s contact. He answered on the second ring. “Everything okay?”
“I guess we’re back to normal if that’s how you’re answering the phone.”
Lawson huffed out a breath. “I could use some normal around here.”
Guilt gnawed at me. He’d been through the wringer lately, working crazy hours and still being there for his boys. “We’ll be there before too long.”
“I know. Did you make it to the trailhead?”
“We’re here, but I have a question.”
Lawson’s chair squeaked as he shifted. “Sure.”
“The range of coordinates the parents gave is pretty damn broad. Can you call them and see if they can narrow it down at all? I’m worried we’re wasting manpower in areas we won’t find her.”
Typing came across the line and then a muffled curse. “My head is in a million places. I should’ve thought about how much ground that would be to cover.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
“Hold on. Let me conference you in with them.”
“Perfect.” I grabbed my pack, pulling out a small notebook and pencil.
Lawson hit a few keys on his phone, each one letting out a beep. A second later, I heard ringing, and then an automated voice took over. “The number you have called is no longer in service.”
Lawson disconnected the third line. “I must’ve misdialed.” He punched in the number again. A single ring and the same message came across the line.
“Maybe I wrote the number down wrong. Let me pull up the dispatch log.” The sound of typing filled the air. “No, I’ve got it right. Who gives a wrong number when their kid is missing?”
The blood drained from my body, replaced by ice sliding through my veins. God, I hoped my instincts were wrong and that my paranoia had taken over and was running away with my good sense. But the overwhelming sense of dread pooling in my gut was too much to take.
“Law, get officers to Wren’s house right now.”
“What?” he asked, confusion filling his voice.
“Just do it,” I barked. “If you wanted me out here, away from Wren, what would you do?”
Lawson went silent for a beat. “Get the SAR team called out.”
That and my family were the only things that could take me away from Wren.
Nash’s hand tightened on his keys. “Who would want to get you away from Wren? Joe Sullivan is still in custody.”
But what if we hadn’t caught the right guy? Then Wren was all alone. Unprotected.
40
WREN
The tap,tap, tap of water against my forehead woke me. I groaned and blinked against the low light. My thoughts were jumbled as I tried to assemble them into some coherent narrative. This felt like the worst hangover of my life—or maybe like I’d been mauled by an elk.
My surroundings came to me in snapshots. Packed dirt beneath me. Rough wood walls assembled so haphazardly that light streamed in through the planks. Old machinery in the corner rusted from weather and disuse.What the hell?
I started to sit up, but my hands caught, not on anything that held them down but on each other. I blinked at my wrists—wrists that were bound together with rope.
Something about the sight had everything coming back to me in a flash: Amber showing up at my door. The gun.
A door swung open, and light poured in. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” Amber greeted as if I’d returned a pencil she’d borrowed. “It would’ve been a real bummer if I’d put you in a coma.”
